Page 134 of Broken Blood Ties

“See what through?” I bark.

“The end of the Irish as we know it.”

I roll my shoulders, slipping a hand into my pocket and feeling for my cell phone. “Ye’re mistaken if ye think ye can wipe us out. Our blood built these streets, this city.”

Riku chuckles, the laugh slithering down my spine. I bite back a shiver.

“You don’t run the city anymore. You don’t have the manpower. You’re outnumbered three to one. Marco’s men are loyal to the Cosa Nostra, and as you can see … the Cosa Nostra is here with me.”

“Luka would never support a war with me. Ye know that,” I snap at Salvatore.

He tilts his head to the side, angling his wide nose like he’s trying to smell the fear coursing through my veins.

“Luka is busy. Has his hands full in Chicago.” Salvatore sniffs, rubbing a thumb across his wrinkled lips.

“What’s in Chicago?” I take the bait. Luka hasn’t mentioned anything about Chicago. The pit in my abdomen grows. Is everyone untrustworthy?

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Salvatore grins, his face twisted into a smug curl of his lips.

I’ve always hated him. That smile—teeth gleaming in the weak light, as if savoring some cruel unspoken knowledge. Makes my skin crawl.

Riku steps forward, his gaze locking on mine with a predatory glint not to be upstaged by the other mafia boss in the room. “The Bratva isn’t concerned here.Iwill not be subject to the Irish whenIown this city now.”

He nods toward his two men, and they approach me, grabbing my arms. It happens faster than I can react. A sharp blow to the back of my head. I reach behind me, but the world blurs in a sudden flash of white-hot pain.

I stagger forward, my hand splaying out in front of me to shield my fall, but it’s too late. I’m yanked back by one of the men fisting my suit jacket, and with a jagged rip, the fabric gives way, the tightly woven threads breaking under the strain. The noise echoes off the concrete walls of the room.

A groan seeps from my mouth before?—

Another hit—this time to my ribs—knocks the wind out of me, and I double over. Glimpsing a look at them, the two men, cold and focused, blink in and out of shadow as I struggle to stay standing.

“Put him in the chair,” Riku demands.

My head spins, but I reach back into my pocket, pulling out my phone. Cormac …

“I think not.” Riku bats the phone from my hand, and it shoots across the room, splintering onto the floor next to me.

Two sets of hands grip around my arms, digging in. My muscles ache as they yank me forward. I stumble, barely keeping upright, before they force me down into the chair. My teeth grind as I clench them, letting out a guttural roar of defiance.

“Hold him!” Salvatore commands.

The back of my legs hit the cold metal of the seat while rough hands pull my arms back and pin me in place.

Plastic bites into my wrist—zip ties from the feel of it. They dig into my skin with every slight movement, cutting off my circulation and leaving a sharp throb.

I hiss in a breath.

Do I fight? I’m outnumbered. Is Finn trying to get in? Please, let Summer be okay. Cormac better have gotten her out of here. It was a mistake to bring her here because I could never forgive myself if something happens to her.

“I’ll give ye nothing,” I spit. “If ye think—” A fist crashes into my jaw, and my teeth rattle in my skull.You’re used to being hit, I tell myself while blood pools in my mouth. The copper tang is thick and bitter, coating my tongue and oozing between my teeth with each shallow breath.

Another fist sends a disgusting crunch up my nose, which is only a brief distraction from the searing jolt that radiates through my face. I tear up, reacting to the exploding pressure in my nostrils. “Bleeding hell!”

“Did you really think you could dictate my participation in your fights? You’re nothing but Irish scum. You have no legacy to leave. And that little delinquent Italian out there you call your fiancée is nothing but a runaway using you to escape her fate.” Riku tips his head back and laughs when I growl at his words. Even Salvatore stiffens at the way he demeans the former Buscetta princess.

When I spit the glob of blood mixed with saliva at his feet, he laughs harder. “It’s nothing personal, Kieran. It’s all business. I need to secure this city as mine, and Salvatore … well I’ll let him explain what he needs. Get the girl.”

His command is directed at Callum, and my whole body freezes. I blink as Callum nods once and turns toward the door.